It’s the little things.
I was preparing to make sandwiches to bring to work when my wife came up and decided to help. We gathered the bread, the lunch meat and the cheese, and she decided to watch.
She had done the grocery shopping recently, and I had asked for deli ham and a certain Swiss cheese.
See, I have a way of doing this.
She watches.
Take two slices of bread from the loaf, set them on a plate and separate them, a la butterfly, or as if opening a book. Next, slice the deli ham in half. The halves are more or less shaped like a slice of bread. I arrange them on the bread to match the fit.
Eyes roll. What does it matter? Just put it on the bread!
Next, cut the oblong piece of cheese in half, and place it squarely over the ham, just so.
Really?
And when I add lettuce, it must be a certain variety. Not Romaine. Certainly not iceberg. It must be green leaf (or just leaf) lettuce. Stacked about two two inches high on the other slice of bread.
Lordy!
Although I love tomatoes, no tomato slices go on the sandwich. They make it messy to eat at one’s desk. And no mayo (aka Miracle Whip) for the same reason.
I make three such sandwiches to take to work.
She offered a gallon-size Ziploc to put them in. Saves bags.
No, said I. Each sandwich gets its own.
That’s a waste!
It keeps the sandwiches fresh. I eat them as the day goes on, and later, re-use them.
Anything else you want?
Maybe some M&Ms.
That wasn’t on your list.
I’ll get them on the way to work.
Silence.
What?
You, constructing sandwiches, as if they are art or something.
It’s the little things.
Mark Watkins
